What Happened That Time Before the Hospital
by wholockerlian
Summary: A young Dean gets hurt protecting Sam and their drunk and OOC dad finds out that they didn't completely finish the job. He takes his anger out on... Warnings: abuse, some violence. AU, pre-series, brother love. :) One-shot.


** Disclaimer: **I don't own Supernatural.

**Warnings: **"Child" abuse, some violence.

**If you read my other Supernatural story, then this one's a lot like it, except the boys are young (17 and 21) and it's not through the interesting POV. **

When their father had told him that they had to "get rid of the witch" who'd been sacrificing lawyers, they had thought it would be a simple shoot and clean up. All had gone according to plan (Dean kicked down the door, they burst in, Sam shot the witch...), but then the dying hag had thrown a knife at Sam. It's always a knife, isn't it? Never anything like a pillow, a book, maybe even a beer. No, it was a knife, and Dean, being Dean, pushed his brother away and ended up becoming the target.

And all for the sake of some lawyers.

"Dean!" Sam ran over to him and gathered him in his arms. "Dean, come on, look at me!"

"Hey, S-Sam, is she dead?" Dean muttered.

"Yeah. Come on, we need to get you to a hospital." The blood was steadily coming and Dean was struggling to breathe.

"No- no hospital. Dad says, no hospital."

Sam sighed and silently dragged his brother over to the impala. He jumped into the driver's seat, ignoring Dean's protests and drove them home, losing three cop cars which had tried to pull them over in the process. They burst in and Sam winced, seeing that their father was drunk.

The youngest Winchester hastily dropped the silver knife down on the table and carried his twenty-one-year-old brother over to the couch, immediately starting to treat the wound and explaining what had happened to John. He'd gotten to the part when they killed the witch when Dean interrupted.

"Except she still had some fight in her and threw the knife at- at me."

John looked at the knife and back at Dean. Then he did a double-take. He picked up the blade and instantly his expression turned to one of rage.

"You idiots! This here is a Dwarf-Killer. Only a special sort of witch has these. _And there's never only one witch in the dwelling._ Now I'll have to go finish the job!" He turned to Dean. "You! You should have known! How come you didn't kill the second one, too?!"

Sam held up a placating hand. "It's okay, we can finish it tomorrow. You need to get Dean to the hospital."

"No, Sammy. It's alright. Sorry, dad. I should have-" Dean didn't finish what he was saying when he suddenly bent over coughing up blood, realizing that Sam had seen, he tried to smile confidently. They looked at their father. It seemed that at his youngest son's words, he'd only gotten angrier.

"Sam! Stop this nonsense. Not only did you _fail_ at a simple job, but you got your brother hurt, too! Go finish it, now!" Sam looked more than surprised. That would just be stupid. He opened his mouth to say exactly that, when,

"Dad, that's stupid. It's my fault. And Sam wouldn't be able to go finish it." He looked at their father, who was livid at being called stupid, then turned his eyes to Sam. There was something in them, something Sam would only be able to identify as preparation for the worst and intense sadness with more than a hint of protectiveness much later. "You're drunk, dad." Dean looked at his brother again. _Go, run, _his eyes seemed to say.

But it was too late. Dean wouldn't be able to protect Sam from seeing John punch him in the face. Nor would he manage to hide his pain when _his own father_ used his overgrown nails to scrape his chest, which had been bared for the bandages, drawing more blood. He couldn't shield his brother from the sight, and sound, of a dirty boot kicking him and breaking a rib. And then he lost consciousness.

Sam was numb. He knew their father was rough on Dean, knew it was worse when he was drunk, but this- this- He was numb. And only when he heard the crack of ribs did he feel the rage rise up inside him. With one blow, he knocked John out. John, who had beaten Dean, who had only been doing what he always did: protecting his little brother. He felt sick when he realized that the reason he knew Dean was alive was because he was spasming.

"Sam, step away from him, now."

"No." Sam's voice was deadly.

"I said-" Their dad stopped when he saw Dean had woken up and was trying to get off of the floor. "Dean, stop moving."

Sam looked around in time to see Dean immediately freeze, whimpering quietly through clenched teeth. He felt sick again.

"John Winchester." That got his dad's attention back to him again. "I am taking my brother and going to a hospital. I am _not_ going to return, and neither will he. Not when you promise never to do anything again. Not when you call in the morning and say you were drunk. Not ever. And I promise you this," here, his voice rose and he felt the hairs at the back of his neck rise with the sound of it, "if Dean dies, if he does not survive because of you, then I will hunt you down and kill you like the monster you are. Now _move out of my way._"

John moved.

* * *

When Sam Winablee was finally allowed in to see his brother, the latter was unconscious but not in any immediate danger. The nurses asked him questions ("Do you know how your brother sustained his injuries?"...) and he'd answered, his brain automatically supplying him with the lies he needed. Dean had about fifty-fifty chances of making it. Sam didn't think of that.

* * *

A young nurse walked into Winablee's room later that day and was greeted by the sight of the younger boy sleeping with his hand clasped onto his brother's. He was muttering in his sleep. The nurse sighed and walked out again.

* * *

"Sam?" The voice was almost lost in the general background noise at the hospital, but the younger boy jerked awake as if he had been slapped.

"Dean! You- you're... Oh, I need to press the button!" He located the red button, pressed it, and turned back to his confused brother. "Dean, how are you? Or, well, that's a stupid question, but... they said you had-"

"Before you start listing my... injuries in those very technical terms you like to use, nerd boy, may I point out that _we're in a hospital_."

"Yeah, Dean. Great observation." Sam smiled, and Dean frowned when he took in his brother's state.

"Sammy, tell me you haven't been here all this time..." Sam had the grace to look uncomfortable, and was about to reply when a doctor walked in.

* * *

Mr. Winablee would be fine. The main worry was if he hadn't woken up. Very few people did, when...

Sam let out a breath that he must have been holding for all of the two days and nights.

Dean would be fine. And they were never going back.

* * *

**So if you liked it, tell me. :) It was just something I wrote one day when I was bored and tired of actual productiveness. This story's not to be taken too seriously... :) I think I wrote it in twenty minutes. **


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